


Video Call

by KissingWinchesters



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Anal Fingering, Community: smpc, M/M, Masturbation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-27
Updated: 2016-11-27
Packaged: 2018-09-02 14:39:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,284
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8671390
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KissingWinchesters/pseuds/KissingWinchesters
Summary: While working a case, Dean thinks it's a good idea to video call Sam for some on the job action. Things don't really go as planned.





	

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first contribution to the SMPC and it's been great. Thanks to merakieros for the collaboration and the SMPC for letting me join! Art by the fantastic merakieros.

"Hey, why're you video calling me?" Sam shuts the motel door and pulls his gun from the back of his jeans, placing it down on the table. He's not really looking at Dean, can see his brother out of the corner of his eye, but he's busy opening up his laptop to pay too much attention to him. He doesn't know why Dean didn't just call him like a normal person, but then again, this is Dean. "Whatever, are you done at the coroners office? Let me guess, the heart was cut out but left inside the body?"

Sam places the phone on the table while he sits and pulls his laptop towards him, listening to Dean ramble on. Sam already knew what Dean would find in that town, they both did, but one of them had to go and confirm it anyway. It's the same thing that's happening here. Men born on January 18th 1972 are showing up dead with their severed hearts left in their torn open chests. Sam clicks into the medical records at the local hospital and doctors offices and starts a search for residents born on that date.

"... and he was so boring, I drifted off and started thinking of other stuff..."

"Uh-huh," Sam replies, watching the search filter out all the dates he doesn't need.

"... so now I'm getting my dick out and I thought you'd want to jerk off or something, what'd you say?"

Sam's eyes fly down to his phone. "What?!"

Dean is smirking. He moves the camera away from his face and angles it down, spreading his legs so Sam can get a good look at the bulge in his half open suit pants.

"Oh now you're listening," Dean says, the phone in his hand wobbling a bit as he shoves his other hand into his underwear. "Feel like a quickie?"

"Dean... fuck... you're actually doing this."

"Hell yeah I am."

The image blurs and Sam squints to see what's going on. Dean is attempting to prop his phone on dash on the passenger side of the car. It falls over a few times until he wedges what looks like his suit jacket behind it.

"Are you driving? Dean, pull over."

There's a distant snort and then Dean comes back into view.

"I'm not pulling over, Sammy," Dean says, pulling his cock out and shoving his pants down a little more with the heel of his hand. He strokes himself a few times and then glances at his phone. "You joining me or what?"

Sam debates whether or not he should keep arguing, telling Dean to stop being a jackass and to find a motel so they can do this safely, but he doesn't bother. Dean will just call him Samantha and win him over by biting his lip or something and Sam will end up doing what Dean wants anyway.

"Fine, just... be careful. You're such an idiot," Sam grumbles, picking his phone up and moving over to the couch.

He's turned on, despite his annoyance, and he palms his cock through his jeans as he tries to find a good place to put his phone. The sides of the couch are too low, and when he tries to lean it against a cushion it keeps slipping down.

In the end, Sam decides on standing his phone against the back of his open laptop on the table. That way, Dean can see all of him, and that's just what Sam wants. If Dean wants to play dirty, then Sam does too.

"We're not shooting a porno. What're you doing waving your phone around." Dean is still stroking his cock and looking from the road to his phone more regularly than he probably should.

"It wouldn't stand up," Sam replies, sitting back down on the couch and stretching out.

"You don't have that problem I see," Dean says, his eyes on Sam's crotch. "Let me see it then."

Dean's heavy breaths and the sound of him jerking off send a shiver up Sam's spine, but he's not going to let his brother call all of the shots of this game.

"What were you thinking about when you were supposed to be listening to the coroner?" Sam unbuttons his jeans and slides the zipper down, pushing his hand into his boxers and grinding his hand against his throbbing dick. The pressure feels so good that he closes his eyes and bites down on his lip.

"Jesus, Sammy..." Dean moans, and Sam smiles wryly.

"Did you think about me doing this? Touching myself while you watched? Me watching you?"

Opening his eyes again, Sam sees Dean twisting his fist slowly over the head of his cock, fucking his fist. He's holding himself back, Sam can tell, because he knows that usually Dean likes it hard and fast.

"No, ahh... was thinking about you on your knees in front of me, sliding my dick between your lips... fuck Sam you look so hot."

Sam sprawls out a little more, arching his back against the sofa as he rolls his balls in his fingers. He's leaking precome against his wrist, the thought of tasting Dean making his mouth water."

"Get it out, Sammy, c'mon."

Dean lets go of his cock to change gear. The road out of town is pretty much straight up and down so at least Sam knows Dean won't be driving into a ditch trying to turn the car.

"Not yet." Sam swallows down a moan, gliding the edge of his nail over the slit of his cock. "Tell me what else you thought about."

"You little bitch." Dean starts stroking himself again. "How about I show you what else I was thinking about when I get back?"

"When you..? Dean, you're like an hour away..."

"Half an hour," Dean hastily corrects. "And at this speed I bet I'll be back in twenty at most."

"That's still a long time. You expect me, or you, to hold off from coming until then? Are you serious?"

Sam frowns, still teasing himself out of the sight of Dean's hungry stare. He feels close to coming already just from the god damn noises that Dean's making, no way are either of them going to last much longer.

"Uh, yeah I'm serious. You're not coming unless I've got my hands on you." Dean circles his hips and thrusts between his thumb and forefinger. "This is just a preview. And because it's a preview, I'm gonna need to actually view. The goods. Capiche?"

Sam shakes his head but decides to take pity on his brother.

"Yeah, that's it, Sammy."

Sam looks at Dean's reaction on his phone screen as he slowly pulls his cock out of his briefs, tucking the elastic under his balls, satisfied when Dean's mouth drops open like a fish on dry land. The satisfaction doesn't last long however, because Dean takes his hand off the steering wheel, flashes a shit eating grin, and gives sam a thumbs up. All while still jerking off.

"Would you... watch the road! I can see you swerving."

"Oh shut up, grandma," Dean says, grinning. "I could drive my baby blindfolded."

Sam rolls his eyes and widens his legs. It's not ideal that he's fully clothed, but it seems to be working for Dean. He makes more of a show of dragging his hand down the shaft and then sliding it up inch by inch until the head disappears into Sam's palm.

"So good, yeah... so fucking hot, Sam."

Dean's hand slips on the steering wheel and he presses the car horn by mistake, making both of them jump. He let's go of his cock, leaving it resting awkwardly on the open v of his trousers.

"No, no, keep going," Sam pleads, willing Dean to see how impossible it is that they'll be able to keep from coming. Sam is close already, so turned on my Dean getting all horny for him in the coroners office.

"I want to fuck you," Dean growls, the roar of the impala as Dean accelerates blaring through the tiny speakers on his phone. "I'll be there in ten minutes."

Sam keeps touching himself even though Dean has stopped. He closes his eyes and pictures Dean bursting into the room, tearing his clothes off and throwing him down onto the bed. Sam always did love a bit of manhandling by his brother.

"Mmm yeah," Sam moans. "If you're going to fuck me then I'd better get ready for you don't you think?"

Releasing his cock with a hiss, Sam starts taking off his shirt. Dean curses loudly, and Sam peeks at the screen to see if Dean has caved and is jerking off again. He hasn't. But his arms are both stiff with tension on the steering wheels, his erection still hard and bobbing about between his legs. Sam would laugh if he wasn't sure Dean would kick his ass for it when he got back.

Once he's stripped his shirt, Sam sits forward and runs his hand over his chest, toying at his nipples through his t-shirt.

"Fuck," Dean breathes, and his hips thrust up into empty air. He whimpers Sam's name under his breath and Sam wonders just what else it was that distracted Dean so much at the coroners.

"How far?" Sam asks, pulling his t-shirt up and over his head and then going at his jeans, shoving at them until he gets frustrated and has to stand up.

"Uh, I don't know... god, Sam look at you... those legs."

Sam, currently bent over trying to pull his feet free of the pool of denim around them, tilts his head up and looks at his brother through his hair. His face is flushed, hair rumpled from where he must have pulled at it, and his cock is twitching wildly without even a finger on it.

There's no way Dean is going to last.

Sam ditches his underwear and ignores his cock for now. The little brother part of him wanting to see if he can push Dean enough for him to break.

He opens his legs wide and puts two of his fingers in his mouth, sucking them and meeting Dean's eye.

"Sam, don't..."

"But you want to fuck me? I have to be ready for you, Dean." Sam smiles as Dean's eyes darken, and not in the good way, although it's what Sam wanted to see.

"Don't you fucking dare," Dean grunts, looking down at his poor neglected dick. "Just go back to jerking off. I'm five minutes away."

"I'm just doing what you want," Sam replies, showing his teeth as Dean glares daggers at him. His body jerks with pleasure when his two fingers press against his hole.

"You're such a shit. You don't even have lube." One of Dean's hands falls from the steering wheel and he clutches his thigh, still not giving in and touching his cock like he wants to.

"Mm, still feels good though. This what was going through your dirty mind, huh? When you were meant to be paying attention? We are on a case, Dean."

"Shut up," Dean grunts, turning the wheel like he's on a racetrack and not a road.

He must be almost at the motel, but Sam is having too much fun teasing Dean to stop now. And anyway, it'll teach Dean a lesson for being so unprofessional.

Sam let's out a low moan and takes hold of his dick again, still massaging his ass with the other hand. He pushes the tip of one finger inside and says his brother's name, just how he likes it, and Dean almost swings the impala into the car in the next space.

He doesn't of course, nothing could make him damage her, but it's a close call and that just makes Dean madder. Sam laughs.

"I'm gonna kill you," Dean grits between his teeth, cutting the engine and wrapping his hand around the base of his cock. "No, no, no... fuuuuuck..."

Sam isn't sure if it's to hold off his orgasm or to tip it over the edge, but it doesn't matter anyway because Dean is blowing his load all over himself, cursing and pounding his fist on the steering wheel as he jerks himself through it.

Sam really hopes there isn't anyone walking past the motel.

Dean is shaking and glaring, but the good endorphins seem to have taken the edge off his rage and so Sam isn't worried about getting an ass kicking. He considers finishing himself off and making Dean watch from the car, but he's not that cruel.

"Are you just going to sit there until you get arrested for indecent exposure?"

Dean snorts and wipes his hand on his briefs. He reaches for his phone and for a while all Sam can see is the smooth leather seat.

"You are a terrible brother," Dean grouches. Sam can hear him shuffling around and zipping his fly up.

"You started it," Sam chuckles, still lazily stroking himself. "And you're too easy."

Dean's face fills the screen of Sam's phone.

"I hate you."

"No you don't," Sam says, stretching. "Get out of the car and come in here. I'm sure you'll be able to get it up again for another round. Or at least you can come and give me a hand."

Rolling his eyes, Dean gets out of the car and walks to the room, still keeping the video call connected until he gets inside.

"You're going to pay for that," he says, jabbing his finger towards Sam.

"I sure hope so," Sam replies, grinning when Dean drops to his knees between his outstretched legs.

He'll be paying for it all night.


End file.
